


Unwanted Assistance II: The Storm

by majingojira



Category: Godzilla - All Media Types, The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 05:05:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16234778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majingojira/pseuds/majingojira
Summary: Harry Dresden is cornered by the Shagnasty, but help arrives.  In the worst form possible.





	Unwanted Assistance II: The Storm

Few people get just how dangerous a storm can be, especially at night. The wind can throw you off balance, and it can deafen you; the rain can blind, and it robs you of vitality and warmth, and the darkness makes those two even worse just by its presence.  But still, I should have felt it. There was more going around me that I should have spotted it.

No the skinwalker that had me pinned by the head. I give myself a pass on not being able to spot a nigh-immortal semi-divine shapeshifter.  But not this. It stood on me, claws like an eagle resting on me with at least a quarter of its bulk, which was more than enough to pin me down. 

“For as long as this storm lasts, Spirit Caller,” It rasped, “I will have such fun.” 

The emphasis it put on that last word was not lost on me, despite the throbbing of my head, the ache of my body, and the fact that I was sure some of the liquid dripping off of me in little rivers was, in fact, my own blood. 

But I should have felt it.  I thought it was thunder. My second thought was tearing metal, or someone using the wires of a suspension bridge as if they were harp strings.  And it was loud. It got both of our attention and it struck me dumb how something that big could sneak up on not just me, battered almost out of my wits, but the skinwalker as well.      

I called on the last of my wits.  I couldn’t help myself. “There’s always a bigger fish, Tiny.”

The creature gave me a puzzled look and at that moment, and that was its last mistake.  A scaly, five-clawed hand as long as a bus drifted out of the darkness with a lazy grace, but frightening speed, and seized the skinwalker.  It tried to escape, but something held it fast. It wasn’t magic, not like I knew it, but there was power in the hand’s simple movement that not only held the skinwalker in place but somehow stopped it from shifting shape. 

But the skinwalker did release me as it, struggled, clawed, and bit against the hand with all it’s might, but … I had a feeling its efforts were futile even as I came to grips with what exactly was happening. 

In the darkness, the wind, and the rain, I didn’t see much.  But the rhythmic thunder started up again. I heard the skinwalker shriek in panic and fear, its voice piercing through the howling wind.  Then I heard those loud, inhuman sounds cut short by a devastating crunch. A flash of light high in the air above briefly outlined the limp limbs of the horror trapped in dark jaws, but my head was spinning too much to see it clearly.  

Then all was dark again.  Wind howling, rain pounding, and darkness engulfing. 

Until it was struck by several bolts lightning.  The light traveled across its head and down a series of plates along its back.  The wind and rain swirled around it, and let me see it in full glory for only a few moments.  

There are few words I can think of that can do justice to this monster. Mountainous is the best I can do to relate its size, but not its power.  Its power dwarfed the storm around it while it just stood there. It was as gray as a tornado, covered in scales like a crocodile, with spiked plates down its back. Its jaws were jagged and irregular, but thick and sturdy. Every inch of it simply roared with power.  Not just in physical might, but magical as well. I didn’t need my sight to know it was letting me see its power freely. 

But looking at it, I knew instantly what it was even before the cacophony of its roar echoed through the city.  It sounded like the shriek of tearing metal, the roll of thunder, and the roar of the zombie Tyrannosaur I once rode into battle magnified two hundred times.  Glass shattered and stone cracked under the roar, and I covered my ears as best I could to save my eardrums from the blast. The silence when it finished was tinged by the high whine of my damaged ears.  I could still hear, but only just. 

It strode towards me and every cell in my brain screamed to run.  Who am I to argue. I managed to make it to an ally just as its foot loomed overhead and it started stepping over me. I watched from the alley as the tail crushed the road completely behind it, covering up its tracks as it made its way to Lake Michigan, smashing the docs to splinters as over 500 ft of monster slid into the water and disappeared into the murk. Waves rushed across the harbor all around it, long after it vanished.  

But I stood in shock. I know what I saw.  And I know it makes no sense. I mean, he isn’t real. He’s just a movie character.  I’ve seen him a dozen times or more battling all sorts of weird monsters before. Hero, Villain, or in between. So, I was used to the image.  But he wasn’t real. 

But, I guess he was as real as Santa Claus. 

I found myself laughing as a fell on my ass in front of the rippling waves.  

I felt Murphy at my side before I heard her, “Harry?! Are you alright?”

“Never,” I said, a bit louder than I initially planned.  

“What happened to the skinwalker?”

I looked back out over the lake, “You wouldn’t believe me,” at her glare, I added, “I saw it, and I don’t believe it.!”

“Saw what?”

I didn’t answer.  It’s roar thundered again across the lake, it breaching once more before heading down into the depths, water churning and rocking every boat in port, and splashing over every doc.  Those distinct spines breaking the surface as it dove deep once more. 

“That,” I said, exhausted. 

The thunder rolled on in the silence between Murphy and me.  Eventually, she shook her head, “No. It can’t be what I think that was.”

“Apparently it is.”

“But, those were movies,” her arms fell against her side, limply, “Not real.”

“Maybe,” I struggled to work out, “They saw it back then, and designed him after . ..  whatever that was.”

Murphy nodded, accepting this explanation.  “Yeah, some great sea monster.”

“I’d complain,” I started to laugh again, “But he did save my bacon.  And he has been a hero in the movies.”

Murphy short me a shocked glare, “Are you seriously going to use those as your source on this?”

I shrugged, “Godzilla just walked into Lake Michigan, Murph.  What else can we draw on here?”


End file.
